


don't speak, don't explain

by eloha



Series: a flock of you flutters through [5]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Coming In Pants, Feminization, Gym Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Size Kink, Teasing, straight man gets easily seduced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloha/pseuds/eloha
Summary: “What?” Law teases, “you don’t go for the frail type?”Drake’s laugh is amusing, throaty, leaving his eyes scrunched up. He stops before a door, and when he looks down at Law he’s still smiling.“I wouldn’t say that exactly.”
Relationships: Trafalgar D. Water Law/X Drake
Series: a flock of you flutters through [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147892
Comments: 17
Kudos: 63





	don't speak, don't explain

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I'd do a drake/law one shot, but here I am solely because of their size difference

If there’s one thing Law loathes, it’s going to the gym. 

Law likes to think of himself as a pretty fit man, he drinks his daily amount of water intake, eats pretty healthy, doesn’t care much for sweets or bread. About Law’s only bad habit is his drinking one, but even then, it’s not as if he does so every day. Well, maybe that’s a lie, Law loves to drink, but as he said, that’s his only bad habit. 

Bad habits aside, being fucked on nearly, almost, a daily basis keeps him fit as is. Which was his argument to Doflamingo when he had the audacity to say he got him a gym membership. Law cried (not really), and pleaded (which he really did), he fucking bribed Doflamingo with the best goddamn blow job he’s pretty sure the older man has ever received, and he still wasn’t swayed. 

Which is why Law finds himself walking into the overtly expansive gym, spitting out his name and appointment time to the receptionist with more anger than he should really harbor. Law’s already thinking of the number of ways that fucking flamingo can pay him back for this. 

The gym is much too expensive, if Law were to ever _want_ to go to one it would most likely be the cheapest, and much busier than this. Law wants to smell sweat, hear men grunting, beckoning them to the further part of a locker room to fuck him. There’s practically no one in here, a sign that it’s reserved for filthy rich people. 

_I’m well acquainted with everyone there doll_ , Doflamingo said in that sickly sweet voice Law hates because he goes putty, _they’ll treat you like royalty_. 

The last thing Law wanted to do was be stuck at a damn gym on a Saturday morning when he could be spending his time more useful, like being of use, perhaps. Or maybe getting day drunk, it’s been a while since he indulged himself. 

Law’s thoughts, however, flee from his mind when his name is spoken by a deep voice. Law flicks his head to the sound, and oh _dear god_ , he’s pretty sure his jaw has dropped. Law won’t say that _this_ is why Doflamingo made an appointment for him, but it’s very clear that it is. 

The trainer must be at least a foot taller than him, maybe more, and Law knows that without standing. Reddish brown hair pulled into a bun, muscles for days, god _damn_ those fucking muscles. Law likes to think it’s because of the summer that’s why he’s wearing a tank top, fucking skintight shorts that stop just above his knees. 

Law wants to crawl out of his chair, lay himself bare on this dirty ass floor and let him fuck him. Hell, he wouldn’t even care if he towered above him and just jerked himself off, cum splattering all over his clothes and face. Law licks his lips, standing from his chair. 

“Why hello there,” Law drawls, never mind the receptionist, “you must be my personal trainer.” 

Blue eyes flick down to Law’s outstretched hand, and he smiles politely as he sweeps it up. Rough, calloused hands, the sign of a working man. Law’s knees almost wobble, head tilted. So tall, my god, the only men he has to look up to like this are Doflamingo and Rosinante. That comparison alone lets Law know that Doflamingo did this on purpose, he’s quickly retracting his hate for him. 

“That I am,” he responds, firm grip gone as he sweeps it beside him, Law takes the hint and starts walking, “you can just call me Drake.” 

Oh, Law will most definitely make use of that name. 

“I’m Trafalgar Law.” Even though he just said it. 

A glance over his shoulder shows Drake smiling. 

“So I’ve heard.” 

Law wonders if his name precedes him, but the way he says it doesn’t give Law any indication. 

“We’re all quite familiar with the Donquixotes here,” Drake adds as if he can sense Law’s thoughts, “they mentioned off handedly they had someone to start here. I must admit I was a little shocked to find they wanted me to train you.” 

Drake steps beside him, taking him down some hallway. 

“What?” Law teases, “you don’t go for the frail type?” 

Drake’s laugh is amusing, throaty, leaving his eyes scrunched up. He stops before a door, and when he looks down at Law he’s still smiling. 

“I wouldn’t say that exactly.” 

A rush of cool air hits them when the door is open and Law walks inside, observing the surroundings. Things of equipment Law has no idea the name to litter the room, though it is pretty spacious. Also closed off, no windows except for one that’s opened floor to ceiling and overlooking the garden like backyard. Oh, it’s like it’s all laid out perfectly for him. 

Law drops his gym bag to the floor, and flutters his eyelashes to Drake. 

“Where should we start first?” 

Drake, ever the professional, ignores Law’s flirting tactic, easily sidestepping him once the door is closed. Law narrows his eyes at his back, did he read him wrong? Or maybe Law’s just not being obvious enough. He’s aware he shouldn’t be trying to do this when two of the richest men in this damn country basically handed Law over on a silver platter, but those two know Law, they knew what he would be up to the instant he saw Drake. 

“We can start by stretching.” Drake supplies, already standing on a large mat. 

Perfect. 

There’s a pep in Law’s step as he walks towards it, cushion soft beneath the soles of his shoes. If there’s one thing Law has always prided himself on, it’s his flexibility. Drake may be immune to his sly comments, but he definitely won’t be able to ignore Law spreading his feet shoulder width apart, nearly folding himself in half. A pleasurable stretch aches in Law’s muscles and he groans softly, smiling in victory when Drake’s breath noticeably hitches. 

Law’s slow to raise, making sure- if Drake is watching him- that he can spot every dip of his body as he does so. Lithe arms stretch above him when he stands before Drake, smiling a little too wickedly, but who can blame him. Drake looks so put off in the best way possible, like he didn’t expect Law to do that at all. 

If only to lay it on a little thicker, Law slips to the floor, legs long on either side of him as he goes into a split. Law sighs, partly because he remembers the last time he was in this position, but mainly because his dick feels delicious rubbing softly on the cushion when he lays flat. 

If Drake was the type to have been feeding into Law’s flirtation, perhaps he would’ve humped the floor just to see how riled up that got him. Law hums in satisfaction, pushing on his hands, and there it is, glaringly obvious, Drake’s bulge. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you do a single stretch,” Law muses, not hiding the fact he’s licking his lips while staring at his covered crotch. 

“I, uh-” Drake mumbles, starting then stopping, and Law’s definitely amused. 

When’s the last time someone has ever been shy around him? Oh, this is _rich_. Law swings his legs in front of him, shifting until he’s on his knees to look up at Drake. It’s a good distance, a great distance. 

“Yes?” Law purrs. 

Drake looks as if he has no damn idea what to say, and Law tilts his head curiously. He seems to be having an internal battle, with what, Law doesn’t know but he helps the man get a move on as he crawls forward. Law doesn’t bury his face on that bulge no matter how much he wants to, but he knows his expression is showing he wants to. 

“I don’t, I’m not,” Drake rambles, none of that easy confidence from before. 

Law sits on his heels, tracing a barely there finger up Drake’s shin, and how easily he falls. One would have thought Law tugged him to the ground with the way he drops to his knees, hands reaching yet stopping. 

“We shouldn’t.” Drake blinks, shaking his head, and Law coos. 

The man is so pure, Law would almost think he’s a virgin if not for the dark glint that shows when he opens his eyes. Law splays his hands out on those muscular thighs, leaning close to him. 

“We can be quick.” Law murmurs, happy he’s so damn easy to stretch. 

Law slides his palms up, humming as his thumbs trace the outline of Drake’s huge bulge. Drake flinches, a flicker of apprehension. 

“I’m not-” Drake gasps, “I’m not gay.” 

Ah, so _that’s_ what it is. Law could fucking laugh, really. He’s going to have to send his thanks to Doflamingo, the man knows how much he enjoys being fucked by straight men. 

“That’s no problem at all,” Law supplies easily, palming Drake’s hard on. 

Drake might be in denial that he’s gay, but his body sure isn’t. The bigger man groans softly, eyelashes fluttering, hips almost snapping into the touch. Law licks his lips at the reaction, slowly curling his fingers into the elastic band. Law waits for Drake to stop him, playing with the edge. Drake’s eyes are damn near begging him to free his cock from the confines of his pants, so who is Law to deny him? 

Law smiles as he tugs the front of Drake’s workout pants to his thighs, briefs going with them, stomach coiling in anticipation because of his cock bobbing free. Drake’s just as long as he is thick, curved beautifully, foreskin glistening with precum, pubes thick with ginger curls. So pretty. It’s been a long time since Law’s been with an uncut man. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” Law rasps, dragging a finger around his slit to gather precum. 

Drake’s beautifully responsive, groaning without a hint of shame. It’s hard to tell he’s straight if he’s acting like this, looking at Law like that. 

“I’ve been told I feel like a woman.” 

Drake chokes on a whine when Law starts jacking him off slowly, lips parting before closing, instead of answering he nods his head, and Law will take that. With an easy shift of his knees, Law falls to his elbows. Really, if Drake assumes he’s straight, he should show him how good it is being with a man. Yes, that’s a good reason. 

Law licks around Drake’s foreskin, humming at the salty taste, slight musk as he sucks in a little more of his cock. Law rolls his eyes up only to see Drake’s snapped shut, if he could smile he would, but he bobs his head faster, making the pace sloppy as hell. 

“Shit,” Drake grunts. 

Law licks around what length isn’t in his mouth, dragging a hand to pull his foreskin back, licking and slurping the sensitive area. Drake’s hips shoot up, one big hand splaying over the back of Law’s head. Law moans filthily, feeling incredibly small in his hold. 

“Like that,” Drake groans, and Law happily complies. 

Every flick of his tongue drives Drake insane, it seems, he doesn’t care how loud he’s being, if anyone will hear what they’re doing. Drake pays no attention to it, and Law _loves_ that. He starts slurping a bit too sloppy around his tip, damn near tongue kissing the head of his cock, and Drake’s other hand flies to his hair. 

“Suck it,” Drake gasps, hands pushing Law’s head urgently, “shit, go on and suck it.” 

Law’s hand slaps to the ground, sinking on Drake’s cock, not stopping until he’s swallowing around him. Drake’s head rolls back, hips snapping as if he could bury any deeper inside of him, hands keeping Law in place. A bit of a sadistic streak this man has. Law shoves his pants down only enough for his ass to be on display, two fingers tracing his rim. 

Drake’s fingers curl in Law’s hair, tugging him off his cock and he drinks air down greedily, quickly sweeping his fingers on his wet shaft just as Drake is yanking him forward again. It’s clear this works well for him if he’s not looking at Law, not seeing that it’s a man bringing him pleasure. Law finds a subtle thrill in that, wondering if he’s imagining a woman on her knees for him, driving him crazy with her mouth alone. 

Law’s moan is wanton, stuffing his fingers into his loose hole, prepping himself while Drake uses his mouth. He fucks his throat like a mad man, balls slapping Law’s chin, growing wetter every time because of how Law’s drooling all over his fat dick. Law scissors his fingers apart, plunging them in deeper, adding a third because it feels so damn good. Drake’s just driving in and out of his throat without abandon, and Law’s eyes roll, heat pooling in his gut. 

“God _damn_.” Drake huffs, wrenching Law’s hair, nails scratching his scalp as he’s tugged off. 

Drake’s chest is heaving, the bigger man sucking in a lungful of air. 

“Gonna fuck me now?” Law rasps, grinning when that alone seems to snap Drake out of his daze. 

He glances at Law like he forgot he was even here, and nothing brings him greater pleasure. Drake’s hands are quick to pull away from Law’s hair, and Law pivots on his knees, spreading them wide while arching his back. With a sick sense of satisfaction, Law slowly drags his fingers out his ass, loving the wrecked groan he gets in return from Drake. 

“Come on baby,” Law breathes, forehead resting on the mat, arms stretching in front of him. 

A beautiful display, Law knows he is, hole just gaping and begging for his dick. 

“Come fuck my pussy.” 

Law, assumed, Drake would have to be coaxed into it, but that’s not the case. As soon as those words fall from his lips, big hands are gripping his waist and, quite literally, tugging him back. Drake’s cock fills him up in one smooth stroke and Law’s jaw slackens, condensation forming on the mat as he moans, panting harshly. 

Drake’s groan sounds wonderfully broken, fingers twitching at his side, pulling out to ram in deeper. It’s fucking exquisite, Drake doesn’t take his time at all, just continues to pick up a brutal rhythm until Law is hiccupping on sobs. Drake’s fingers dig into the juncture of his thighs, thumbs pressed on the meat of his ass, slamming long and deep. Law’s toes curl at the treatment, voicing his appreciation loudly. 

“ _Fuck yeah_ ,” Law whines, voice deliberately pitched a tone higher. 

Law squeezes his walls every time Drake pulls back, sobbing as he gets fucked into the floor. Drake holds him in place with every snap of his hips, balls slapping against Law’s covered ones, bringing him closer and closer to release. 

“You must get fucked a lot.” Drake comments offhandedly, breathless, “you’re _loose_.” 

Drake most likely doesn’t do it on purpose, but his hips angle, the next thrust rubbing right on Law’s prostate and he keens, chest sinking on the floor. Another one has stars flashing behind his eyes, drool leaking onto the mat. Law doesn’t berate the man when he switches the angle, he gets off solely based on Drake chasing his own release. 

Law’s orgasm crashes over him quickly and without restraint when a calloused hand smacks his ass harshly, Drake’s pelvis flush against him, fat cock shoving inside of Law. Drake’s name is on his tongue, echoing around the room, shorts growing wet because of his cum staining it. Drake takes no mind to it, Law’s pretty sure he doesn’t even know he just came, his pace is still reckless. 

This right here. This right here is why Law loves getting fucked by straight men, they only care about themselves. There’s no attachment whatsoever, it’s only a straight guy and an easy hole. Law’s nothing but a fleshlight in this moment, an object that’s only purpose is to get someone off. Drake uses him with wild abandon, slapping his ass whenever he sees fit, finger digging bruises, a hand curling in his hair to tug him up. 

It’s been a while since Law’s been fucked stupid and Drake is easily succeeding without even trying. He’s just bouncing Law up and down, and Law can’t help but go a little cock crazy. His head is knocking in the air, cheeks ruddy with dried tears, slobbering all over himself. 

“Damn you feel good,” Drake gasps, strong arms curling around Law’s abdomen. 

Law’s dick twitches, whining at being trapped against Drake, strong muscles caging him in as he rams that thick cock faster. Law’s head slumps against Drake’s shoulder, taking in his lidded eyes, sharp jaw, smiling stupidly past the daze in his eyes. Drake barely spares a glance at him. 

“You fuck me so good.” Law rasps, dropping his voice an octave, _really_ laying it on thick that he’s fucking a man. 

Drake’s cheeks dust the tiniest shade of red, nails clawing at Law’s shirt. He can appreciate the trainer's stamina, no doubt if Law had been actually working out, the bigger man would have surely put him through the wringer. This is a much better work out though. 

“Do you like fucking me baby?” Law taunts, spreading his knees wider and Drake’s eyelashes flutter, pace quickening, “my pussy feels good doesn’t it.” 

Drake’s eyes clench together. 

“Shut up.” A grunt, slamming balls deep. 

Oh, Law can feel the way his dick pulsates, Drake shivering. 

“Are you gonna come in my pussy?” Law purrs, walls clamping, and he can see the exact moment Drake’s self-control shatters. 

Drake’s hands fly to his waist, bouncing Law on his cock, groaning in the dip of his neck. Come fills Law up, warm and thick, spurts shooting against his hole because of Drake pulling out halfway through his orgasm. Law smiles deliriously at Drake borderline whimpering, more come being fucked into him as he drives deep. 

When Drake comes, he fucks like a wild animal, basically humping Law throughout his orgasm. It’s amazing. Law can appreciate a man like that, one who doesn’t care if his strokes are too harsh and uncoordinated so long as he gets his orgasm. 

Law’s moan is wanton when he’s empty, both of Drake’s lovely large hands gone, one quickly tugging the back of his pants and briefs up like he can’t _stand_ the fact he just did this with a man. Law slumps to the mat, rolling over with a giddy laugh. Drake looks anywhere but at him, and Law jacks off to that. 

Drake hasn’t put himself away yet, he’s sitting on his knees trying to catch his breath, length glistening with his own cum. Law licks his lips, palm rubbing up and down his covered member, still wet with his own release. Luckily, he wore black. Drake finally chances a glance at him when he moans, blue eyes trained onto Law’s hand, and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Did you, um, you know?” 

“Get my nut?” Law helpfully supplies, and Drake’s face turns into a human furnace. 

Fucking priceless. If only to make him more flustered, Law slides two fingers into his pants, sweeping over the mess. Drake’s eyes are trained on the substance, following as he brings them to his mouth. His lips part when Law sucks, humming around the digits before popping them out lewdly. 

“You fuck good for a straight man.” Law muses, quickly changing his position. 

Drake’s jaw drops when Law picks his softening cock up, likes that even if it’s flaccid it’s still huge. 

“Just have to clean you off baby.” 

Law closes his eyes in content, easily sucking his entire length. Law drools a little at the musky smell of his pubes, slick with sweat. It’s no trouble at all for Law to inhale, hollowing his cheeks, lips stretched wide. Law pulls his foreskin back, lapping up Drake’s seed hungrily. Drake whines deep in his throat, spasming, and Law imagines he’d be a dream to play with since he’s so sensitive. 

Instead, Law releases him, raising to tuck him into his pants like none of this even happened. Drake’s perfectly put together aside from his cheeks red from exertion and humiliation, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. 

Law uses his shoulders to stand, legs weak in a delicious sort of way. Drake’s eye to eye with Law’s still hard cock, and he must admit he likes this advantage point. Standing tall, Drake is pretty, but on his knees and slowly bringing his gaze to Law? Oh, he’s gorgeous, Law can’t help but sweep a thumb over his bottom lip. 

“Is this, I mean can you-” Drake swallows thickly and Law removes his thumb, arching an eyebrow in question, “can we do that again?” 

Drake asks it so nervously, eyes flicking away as if he’s shy and Law lights up. What a fucking treat this man is. 

“Of course baby boy,” Law lilts. 

Law pats his cheek playfully seeing Drake bite his bottom lip before turning on his heels, feeling thoroughly used and incredibly satiated. Law bends over to retrieve his bag, one last glance to Drake shows his gaze glazed over, still on his knees. 

“You are my personal trainer after all.” And Law leaves him with a wink.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I have really always enjoyed the 'straight person finds out they actually might not be as Straight as they were' dynamic. Strangely enough, I didn't expect that to be Drake. Tbh I had about 3k planned out of Drake being Law's plumber but somewhere along the way I grew unhappy with it and was just like... let Law fuck this man gay. In other words, I'm happy with how it turned out, and also with Law calling Drake 'baby boy', yes yes
> 
> [tumblr](https://eloha.tumblr.com/) • [twitter](https://twitter.com/capturingvenus)


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